


pare un libro stampado

by ernestdummkompf (JehanFerres)



Category: Don Giovanni - Mozart/Da Ponte, Opera
Genre: But whatever, Established Relationship, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, man idk why this is doing so much worse than holy city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 12:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14112372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehanFerres/pseuds/ernestdummkompf
Summary: Leporello would like to read. Giovanni does not want to let him.





	pare un libro stampado

**Author's Note:**

> (title is a line from act i of don giovanni just after elvira shows up and leporello is finding her plight risible.)
> 
> anyway here's something i forgot i'd written and then discovered afresh. enjoy.

These days, the only times Leporello could get any reading done was either extremely late at night or in the very early hours of the morning. Being stuck in the mansion with Giovanni during this outbreak of whatever disease had befallen the local countryside had them both extremely irritable and fraught, and the fact that they weren’t able to even go outside meant that they were constantly in one another’s company. As such, Leporello thought that he must have read this page of the book that he was just on the verge of reaching the dramatic ending of at least twenty times, just so that he would be seen to be doing something and Giovanni _might_ leave him to his own devices for a few minutes.

But no.

Giovanni, bored and pent up and more than a little anxious about getting sick himself, had been more incessantly pressuring to Leporello than ever. At first, he had seemed to be determined to start an argument simply for the sake of something to do. Leporello had started to view this as just being entertainment and had started to respond to before realising that Giovanni was taking them orders of magnitude more seriously than Leporello, and Leporello had stopped bothering to respond for the sake of their continued relationship.

Tonight, though, after about five hours of Giovanni pacing agitatedly in the drawing room, alternately picking things up and putting them back down again, leaving and then returning, and generally making a nuisance of himself, he had finally stood still for a few seconds and apparently decided what he wanted. With hindsight, Leporello now thought should have been obvious. This _was_ Giovanni, after all, and Leporello didn’t think that he experienced many complex emotions.

Giovanni had grabbed Leporello by the wrist and dragged him into the nearest bedroom – although Leporello wasn’t entirely sure why he went to the trouble of that. But Leporello could hardly say that he was surprised (or displeased) that this was what Giovanni had wanted. He _was_ surprised, on the other hand, that it had taken him multiple hours to figure out that he wanted sex, given that it usually wasn’t too far from Giovanni’s mind, _and_ it was far from the first time Giovanni had bedded either another man _or_ Leporello.

There was still a candle burning by the bed, and Leporello hadn’t had time to drop his book on the armchair he had installed himself in for the past few hours when Giovanni had dragged him into the bedroom. So as soon as he felt that he could move again when he was certain that Giovanni had, in fact, fallen asleep beside him and his heart rate had returned to normal, he moved Giovanni’s arm from where it was draped over his chest and pushed himself upright. His book was on the floor by the bed, and even though it had fallen closed when he had dropped it on the floor he had read the same paragraph so many times that it fell open to the page he had been on before he had been interrupted.

Not wanting to light another candle for risk of waking Giovanni, who rarely seemed to sleep, he moved a little closer to the candle on the nightstand by the bed and leaned over in a way that didn’t put the book in the shadow of his head. It wasn’t especially comfortable, but at least he was getting a little further through his book. _And_ he could keep an eye on Giovanni, who had moved closer to Leporello in his sleep, and now had his head against Leporello’s hip. All in all, he considered this evening to be fairly successful.

He managed to get a good few pages what he was _sure_ would have been powerfully affecting emotionally if he could just remember what had been going on before. As it was, however, he had been trying to read this book for months, and had been stuck at this point for days, so he had completely forgotten what was happening. He finally gave up on what was turning into an increasingly incoherent narrative and turned a few pages back, until he latched onto something that he could make some sense of. This ended up being the beginning of the chapter. Leporello tried to be annoyed, but he vaguely remembered very much enjoying the beginning of this chapter, so he settled back into it.

So he was somehow five fewer pages far through the book than he had been when he had picked up back up when Giovanni suddenly stirred and sat up beside him. Guessing that Giovanni would be wanting attention, because in that respect he was much like an ignored dog, Leporello put the book upside down on the floor to keep his place, but he was somewhat surprised when Giovanni pushed him back down again, leaned over, and picked it back up.

Slightly embarrassed by his choice of reading matter, Leporello took it back before Giovanni could try reading it. “Don’t feel you have to stop on account of me.” He sounded blearier than Leporello had heard him sound for a good few years, which suggested to Leporello that he probably hadn’t slept at all during the time when they had been indoors. Leporello shifted over in a way that allowed Giovanni to lean into his shoulder while keeping his book illuminated by the candle, which was now beginning to dim.

“I didn’t realise I was keeping you up,” Leporello said, after a quick glance in Giovanni’s direction to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep again.

“I was awake,” Giovanni said indistinctly against Leporello’s shoulder. “I think I’ve pulled a muscle.” Leporello was somehow able to pick this phrase apart and figure out that what Giovanni _meant_ was that he had moved awkwardly in his sleep and the pain from it had woken him.

“I would say that was your fault,” Leporello said, and then started reading what he was loosely aware was the same paragraph for the third time. Giovanni turned his head slightly to read over Leporello’s shoulder, the stubble across his jaw rasping distractingly against Leporello’s neck and shoulder. “You won’t understand it. _I_ barely know what’s going on.” He turned the book slightly, so that it was out of Giovanni’s eyeshot.

Giovanni laughed and shifted his head again. He still had most of his weight on Leporello’s shoulder, but he had moved slightly so that the tension on the pulled muscle in his back was reduced. Leporello thought that he knew what Giovanni was angling for, and was quietly weighing up his options. However, he did run his free hand down Giovanni’s back until he found the sore spot just above his right hipbone. Giovanni made a noise that Leporello struggled to classify, and pressed his mouth against Leporello’s shoulder.

“If that leaves a mark–”

“It’ll be gone by the time we’re allowed out.” Giovanni cut him off, barely raising his head. “ _And_ you like it.” Leporello wasn’t entirely certain about the first point, but he couldn’t contest the second. Giovanni probably liked it _more_ , admittedly, but Leporello could hardly complain.

“I would have liked to have some peace, you know,” Leporello teased. He usually wouldn’t have risked a comment that could have been constructed as an insult, but Giovanni was in a good mood and would be receptive to the joke. Still, Leporello was relieved when Giovanni laughed against his collarbone in response.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you let me employ you,” Giovanni said, slightly muffled against Leporello’s neck. Leporello was loosely aware of Giovanni gently shifting his chin up with one hand but not of a whole lot else, and especially not of Giovanni’s other hand moving across his chest and stomach. Or at least he wasn’t aware of it until Giovanni reached over and took the book out of his hand.

Leporello jumped away but he still couldn’t help but laugh at how please Giovanni looked with himself to have got the book off him. “You’ve been distracted enough by this for weeks,” Giovanni taunted fondly, holding the book just out of Leporello’s reach. Leporello grumbled but he was too turned on to actually _do_ anything in response. “Can you really blame me for being curious?”

Leporello reached across to try to get the book back, but Giovanni pushed him down onto his back with one hand, leaning against his sternum to stop him from getting back up again. “I won’t lose your place if that’s what you were worried about,” he said sarcastically. Leporello pretended to glare at him, but he was secretly enjoying the attention that Giovanni was giving him so there was no real venom behind it.

Giovanni scanned down the page until he found something that he deemed to be both sufficiently interesting and sufficiently mortifying to expend the effort of reading it aloud: “ _‘No, he must never know!’ Iolanthe cried. ‘He believes me to have died childless and, dearly as I loved him, I am bound under penalty of death not to undeceive him.’ She started. ‘But see – he comes! Quick – my veil!’_ ” By the end of the passage, Giovanni was barely able to disguise his laughter, and Leporello couldn’t help but find it amusing too.

Giovanni finally removed his hand from Leporello’s sternum, and Leporello pushed himself up on his forearms as Giovanni put the book back down on the floor. “I can’t help thinking that the author was running out of ideas when he got to this juncture in the narrative,” Giovanni teased.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt that he never had an idea to begin with.” Leporello pulled Giovanni down onto his chest and put his arm around him. “Now will you go to sleep and let me _try_ to finish?” Giovanni raised one eyebrow at what Leporello knew Giovanni would realise was an intentional innuendo but even so Leporello could tell that he was starting to fall asleep.

“Not if you don’t snuff the candle out,” he mumbled against Leporello’s chest, before turning and burying his face in the pillow, as if to make a point. Leporello had usually had trouble falling asleep, especially when Giovanni was in the bed with him, but as soon as he had snuffed out the candle as Giovanni had requested he found himself drifting off too.

**Author's Note:**

> the novel that leporello is reading is more or less gilbert and sullivan's iolanthe, in that the dialogue that giovanni finds amusing is lifted directly from it.


End file.
